


Times without you

by OrangeLovePerson



Category: Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-10 19:48:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15298764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrangeLovePerson/pseuds/OrangeLovePerson
Summary: Darcy is away for a business trip, and his absence feels quite long for both him and Elizabeth. (Sappy, relatively plot-less fluff.)





	1. Responsibilities

Being married can surely be a delightful solution for many problems this life has to offer, it seems, but it can easily become the cause of just as many difficulties, if done unwisely.

How lucky it was that such an unwise marriage had not been created between Mr and Mrs Darcy of Pemberly, for their care for each other's happiness would without a doubt always outlive the struggles they might possibly face along the way.

"You look stressed, my love.", Elizabeth noticed one evening. Not many months had passed since the beginning of their marriage, not many more days since their engagement, but already the bond they shared with each other was one proving well understanding for the other one's character. As gloomy and serious a character Fitzwilliam Darcy might have appeared to the outside world at times, Elizabeth knew that whenever he was within the comfort of his own beloved library, all concerns could slip away from him with ease, his features without a worry in the world. Now, though, her dear husband was reading with little concentration and furrowed forehead.

Mr Darcy closed his book and sighed.

"I suppose I can tell you about my apprehension now, can't I?", he asked, more speaking to himself, it appeared, but when he finally fixed his tired gaze upon his wife, all frustration looked rather transfixed and buried within their soft care for her.

"I was planning to spend some time in the country with you, Dearest, for I know that you especially miss your father so much at times. I wanted to travel to Netherfield, so you and I could pay your family a visit in Longbourne now and again while staying at the Bingley's. But all hope for giving you such happy occasion was just destructed upon reading this letter."

He pointed at the small pile of parchment covering the desk a few steps to his left. Elizabeth waited for him to finish voicing his thoughts, already eager to assure him that it didn't matter, that they could visit her family another time, and that whatever important notice he'd gained in the letter would not be of importance therefore. But she quickly realised that he might be taken away from her once again, as business had a way to cross their path now and then, and she barely could keep herself from frowning at such a thought.

Her husband on the other hand did frown, in fact, rubbing the skin of his tired face with a grimacing look upon his features.

"I'm obliged to think that I have to travel up North for a while, Elizabeth. One of my cousins, Colonel Fitzwilliam's good brother, Wilfred, has been involved in some sort of scandal."

"A scandal?"

"Indeed. Some sort of lawful problem concerning a nearby property in Calumburry, and I am asked to offer my advice upon the matter in person. It would be indulgent to refuse such a wish and only to answer by letter, for I owe the gentleman a few small favours... It seems like now might be a good facility to return them,- the only facility to return them, maybe, for those relatives of mine are in no way men of a greedy or dependant kind..."

Darcy sighed, taking a sip out of his wine glass before placing it back next to him on the small ebony counter. "But it hurts me quite dearly to think that I might have to leave you behind for a total of longer than one fortnight or more..."

Elizabeth met his kind eyes, exchanging a smile with him across the shadowy room. "Oh, Fitzwilliam, don't bother to linger on unpleasant thoughts just for my sake! You would miss the Gardiners' visit next week, but I assure you that my fair aunt and uncle are perfectly able to excuse a nobleman's constant duty and obligation when it calls for him! As for me, I'm just as capable of accepting your responsibilities. I just wished you could be back here with me sooner again. I've grown quite used to being held by you at night."

At these loving words Mr Darcy grew closer, reaching through the space that separated one from the other, and grasping for her wrist to drop a gentle kiss against his beauty's skin.

"How convenient of a thing that is", he pondered, quietly, "For I've grown quite used to holding you at night, too."

"Then maybe we should do just that in this instant.", Elizabeth whispered back, her eyes shining and reflecting the candle's gleam. "For I expect you to leave by the morrow already?"

A pained spark crossed Fitzwilliam's complexion, although only for a moment. Then he seemed eager to focus on the sweet hours that the night still offered, instead. He stood up, tendered her his arm, and quietly they left the comfort of books and wine for other pleasant riches.


	2. Goodbyes

The morning of Fitzwilliam Darcy's departure from Pemberly was, accordingly to his young wife's mood, a grey and foggy one. Cold, almost, for a summer's day.

It was silly to mourn so strongly about an absence of only two or three small weeks, Elizabeth had to remind herself once again, as she watched Mr. Darcy comb his hair in front of the bedroom's looking glass. How much longer had she at times not seen her beloved sister Jane? How much longer than two weeks had she, herself, already been absent from home and family at times?

But a young marriage could form quite a strong attachment, she'd soon discovered, at least when formed out of real love and mutual affection.

He looked over at her quiet form, right then, and the light that fell upon them both in such a pretty angle managed to make the whole scene all the more captivating. Mr. Darcy stared at her pondering features, so deep in thought, and the spark of true intellect that he'd once discovered in those deep, wide, sherry-coloured eyes, crossed his mind again upon the sight.

She was wiser and brighter, kinder and sweeter than ever, and each day seemed to prove her endless worth more than the one before. Elizabeth was so beautiful, in each and every sense of the word. And to think that he'd once, - engulfed by the horribly arrogant world view of his upbringing,- had taken Elizabeth's hand for granted! Had felt almost pitiable, to have lost his heart to someone of much less influence and wealth.

As if those things mattered, he now shockingly realised, anew and anew. Nothing he could ever give to Elizabeth would be enough to outweigh his brutal absence of any good manners during the first few months of their acquaintance.

Nevertheless, he surely wouldn't stop trying to find such a gift.

Fitzwilliam bowed down to where she sat on the window sill, kneeling close by and taking her hand. He pulled her wrist up to his lips, dropped one, two, three kisses there with closed lids, and the sweet smell of both her skin and her favourite soap filled his nostrils, blissfully. When he opened his eyes again, they locked with hers in the matter of a second. Enquiring pools of warmth greeted him.

And then... then Elizabeth was suddenly wonderfully close, and their mouths got occupied in a kiss of surprising desperation. Darcy wasn't fully aware of his own doing, his own movements and reactions to her, but he did notice at one point that their tender embrace had to end, for the journey would be long, and a departure of too time-consuming a nature would surely not lessen the discomfort of Elizabeth's absence. It was better to be quick in their goodbyes, and to reach for immediate distraction in some way.

His wife must have felt the same, for she withdrew from him the moment he also moved away from her. Flustered in her complexion, she smiled, still within the frames of his tender arms...

One more quick kiss would do, he told himself. One more moment...

But his lips were almost inseparable from hers, the moment he reached out, and the quiet whimper she uttered was poisonous nectar to his eager ears. Oh, what passions she succeeded to cause in him, whenever he could feel her warm breath upon his skin, her heart against his own...

He wasn't aware how much time had passed between their many kisses, not even later, as he had recollected himself and sat within the even noisiness of the carriage. Darcy only knew that whatever reason would take him away from home next had better to be a good one, for it would certainly cost him much consideration to leave his wife's side again all too soon.


	3. Moodiness

He'd been more unpleasant, more ill-mannered during those past few days than for a long time before, he realised in vain. He'd talked to some of the servants in a truly disrespectful way, hadn't he? And showing sympathy towards servants had always been one of Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy's biggest qualities, especially, where other's didn't.

He truly cared, and not only about his reputation, no. It was his whole being, his whole self-esteem and courage, that always seemed to resonate with his behaviour towards others. And while is upbringing hadn't properly prepared Darcy for experiencing any form of attachment to kindness and well conduct towards those of less influence, his acquaintance with Elizabeth certainly had. Whenever Darcy tried to be a man worthy of her, he felt like the person he ought to be. Whenever he showed interest in others, politeness for others,- no matter of what social rank they were,- his pride would heal in ways and places that he hadn't known to be damaged, earlier on in his life.

But now, far away from Pemberly and its mistress, Fitzwilliam felt a certain amount of difficulty in his attempts to be kind, patient, merry.

He should have been back home days ago already, but complicated circumstances had made it necessary to accompany his cousin, Wilfred, to Sussex, where a trial was now to be held. Darcy's frustration upon this was very big, for his longing for Elizabeth bore more and more weight than any gratitude on his relatives' part could muster, and soon enough his gloomy and downright annoyed behaviour promised to ruin his reputation in Sussex in similar ways as it had long ago in Longbourne's near neighbourhood.

He sighed. The night in front of his window was black as a raven and utterly starless. How very fitting for his current recollections. Without her light, her brilliant gleam, the darkness around him failed to reveal much worth to be seen.

Was it ridiculous to feel such depth, such devotion, after a life of pure contentment with relative indifference to most other people? How could she constantly be of such importance, when all else was not, at times?

But then again, how shouldn't she?

Her immediate importance to anyone who'd heard her speak for more than a few minutes was a matter of course, the grand regard she could cause in people purely natural in his eyes. Elizabeth was everything a young gentleman required in a wife, but she was also everything you could wish for in a partner in conversation, dance or walking. She was brilliant and playful, unique and affable at once.

Had there once been a time when her mother's lack in wit or manner, or her younger sisters' silliness, had seemed to outweigh Elizabeth's marvellousness? How abasing, how humbling to have thought in such a way. And to have voiced such thoughts to her! The memory of his first proposal to her still pained Fitzwilliam even now, sometimes. How completely ridiculous he'd been.

But it was of no consequence now, he reminded himself, still staring into the deep black night. Those flaws and faults had been overcome, his gratefulness at having her in his life was greater than it could otherwise have ever been. She was his, and he was worthy of her. Wasn't he?

Fitzwilliam sighed. Cold was the bed, sleeping in it all alone. Displeased was his temper. Far away was, who he longed for.


	4. Acquaintances

"I wonder, dear Cousin", said Mr. Wilfred Fitzwilliam to his friend Mr. Darcy, as their carriage strolled down streets of shaky pavement, "I wonder what our dear aunt, Lady Catherine, might have to say about your marriage to Elizabeth."

Mr. Darcy was surprised in face of such a question, but he soon detected the small hint of an amused grin in Wilfred's features. It was obvious to the former, therefore, that irony was at play, and that there was no doubt indeed about Lady Catherine's opinion on the matter.

"I assure you that there lies no significance in Lady de Bourgh's evaluation of the circumstances.", he replied in an unimpressed tone.

The younger man laughed heartily.

"All the better, I dare say, for her Ladyship does not have the best of language to use upon your choice of wife!"

"I'm aware of that."

"Oh, really? That's not too surprising. I assume she must have been furious, hasn't she? When I last had the pleasure of meeting her in Kent, her temper was surely quite spiteful, to tell the truth!"

Darcy merely nodded at these words, not giving off an air of particular interest. His cousin, though, seemed more keen on discussing the matter, and if only for lack of a better amusement during their long journey.

"Are you worried, Darcy? Do you hope to regain our aunt's good opinion back, as soon as the first boost of her anger is overcome?"

Mr Darcy could only grunt dismissively at such an idea. "Regain her good opinion? Dear cousin, I suppose it is rather her Ladyship's duty to regain parts of my good opinion back, after the vicious letters she send me prior to, and as a result to my wedding."

Wilfred raised his eyebrows in astonishment. "Parts of your good opinion only? Good gracious, what horrible currishnesses could have caused such a strong impression? Did she insult your bride, your character,...?"

"Indeed she did. I can't give an account of all the details, of all the brazeness... To angry does it make me... But do believe Lady de Bourgh to have gained huge a discredit in my eyes. I can't see myself overcome it all to soon."

The topic was soon dropped, therefore, as any such private information told without much detail was of little pleasure for a cheerful, smug man as Mr. Wilfred.

"I'm curious how my dear brother will react when next in contact with Lady de Bourgh, though.", he soon added, in contemplation. "I wonder if he will tell her about his current visit in Pemberly."

"I beg you Pardon? I wasn't aware that Colonel Fitzwilliam intends to visit Mrs Darcy and me in the near future, is he?", the older gentleman enquired, astonished.

"You sound displeased, Darcy!", Wilfred noticed, laughingly. "Well, yes, indeed! My brother intends to pay you and your beautiful companion a visit as soon as his plans allow it. Perhaps even during the next few days, for he is close by Darbishire in fact, and he knows how dull it can surely be for young Elizabeth during your absence. He might pay her a visit, therefore. Didn't he mention it to you?"

"Why, no, he obviously forgot.", Mr. Darcy replied, hurriedly trying to calm his temper as for not to cause himself embarrassment. It wasn't of any importance, if the good man intended to visit Elizabeth at Pemberley...

And yet, Fitzwilliam Darcy was obliged to feel a hint of jealousy at the thought. He'd seen how admiringly the Colonel had eyed the former Miss Bennett during their time spend in Rosings last year, and although he knew his cousin to have pristine manners,- and although he was more certain of Elizabeth's faithfulness to himself, than of most other things in the world,- Mr. Darcy couldn't resist the claws of unstableness and rage. That another man, - another man who had formerly shown interest in her,- should share Elizabeth's close presence before he, himself would be able to do so again, was frustrating. Thinking about the Colonel's good humour, his talkative character, and not to forget, his by now means uninteresting mind, was therefore painful for the young husband.

He had to remind himself that business wouldn't be able to engross him for very much longer, and that hopefully the last days away from home would not stretch too absurdly wide.


	5. Love letters

My love,

Is it unwise to write to you? I can not tell. Business surely requires most of your time and attention, I'm aware, and yet, selfishly I hope that you long for the returning to Pemberly as much as these walls long for you. I know, you'll laugh at this, but it is true that the house feels like an entirely different place when you are not within its rooms for a long while! Perhaps, it's just a sentiment caused by the servants' missing of you, and perhaps I'm just projecting their sorrow onto the surroundings... But I do think that Pemberly itself misses you, my dear.

It's not just the walls and servants, as you can probably tell! No, you'd certainly shake your head if you knew how profoundly my want for you is. I feel like a small kid in the depths of a secret hiding spot, craving the second to be discovered once again, and greeted by the seeker's smile. Oh, Fitzwilliam, am I not preposterous? But it is simply true that I miss you so much, with all my heart I do.

Your cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, paid Pemberly a visit recently, did you know? He greeted me last Saturday, accompanied by a nice group of acquaintances I hadn't had the pleasure of meeting yet: a certain young Colonel Frost, then a gentleman of fifty or sixty years of age, called Colonel Winchester, in company of his most pleasant wife, and, finally, a young lady of maybe six or seven and twenty years, too, who turned out to be Colonel Frost's sister-in-law. Are you familiar with any of those people? It was a very agreeable party, and I couldn't help but to observe how well everyone of the guests interacted with the other. Perhaps we could recapitulate such a gathering in the near future, in your presence? I'm sure you would have liked the group very much.

Apart from such pleasant occasions, the bygone few weeks have been quite uneventful. I received a few letters from home, as well as from Netherfield. Jane and Charles are restoring parts of the cellar rooms, she writes, as well as some of the roofing northwards on the building. My mother is fine, although in usual distress about this and that, in usual elation about such and such. Father greets you, and hopes to see us again soon.

(I won't bother you with mentions of my sister Lydia's habitually indelicate writing to me. )

I've passed most of your absence absorbed in books, Mr. Darcy, and I dare say that I intend to outpace you in revising your entire library stock until Christmas! You do have quite an excellent taste in reading, I have to admit though.

Come back to me quickly, will you?

I'm awaiting you wistfully.

Sending you all my love,

Your wife, Elizabeth

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Darcy heard himself utter a comfortable sigh, as he'd finished reading her neat lines of writing.

He slept well that night, if only to wake with another jolt of longing for her. But her love had lulled him in, her letter the sweetest bed time story he'd heard in a long time. And he'd be back soon, he would.


	6. Returning

Mr. Darcy's occasional absence from his wife Elizabeth's presence was never unnoticed, nor unfelt. It pained her quite well to see him leave her company, whenever business required it, and although her independent and cheerful character would never allow her to feel a sorrow too deep, her sentiments towards him were exceedingly bittersweet, the longer the days stretched.

Therefore, when her love finally stepped out of the carriage one midday, after several long weeks of absence, - well, "only" two and a half, to be accurate,- Pemberly had never seemed so bright and beautiful, the sky never so brilliantly blue, the rosebushes never so wonderful in their ordinary perfection.

What was there to be feared or dread in this world, whenever Fitzwilliam was within the frames of her life? What was there ever to be hated or despaired in this world with such a gentleman in your company?

"Good afternoon, my love.", he greeted her, a soft smile playing around the corners of his mouth that couldn't quite fit the brilliant excitement in his eyes. He kissed her hand and ignored the bowing servants to both his sides, only wishing to think of her in this instant.

"Good afternoon, indeed, Mr. Darcy.", she replied, a cheeky laugh making its appearance for a second, before she gently tugged him forwards and embraced him quickly.

Elizabeth knew that such public displays of affection were neither suited for a man of such wealth and title, nor for a man of such good taste as her husband, and yet she couldn't resist the quick urge to have him close to her. But when she, not without embarrassment, tried to withdraw from her love an instant later, she found that his arms were wrapped too tightly and securely around her waist as for her to move a single inch. No, the young wife was obliged and privileged to spend almost an entire minute in such close an embrace, such comforting a contact. She sighed peacefully.

When they pulled apart the servants had disappeared, for Pemberly's halls were looked after by truly discreet, polite people, as Elizabeth often found. Mr. Darcy's complexion was glowingly flustered in this light, if caused by embarrassment or joy, it was hard to tell.

"Oh, how I longed to be here again, Mrs Darcy.", Fitzwilliam murmured, as they strolled towards the castle of Pemberly.

"It was only for a fortnight that you were gone, my dear.", Elizabeth laughed, although the playfulness in her voice made clear that said fortnight had been unusually long for her, too.

"A fortnight, indeed.", he said, warm fingers intertwining with hers.


End file.
